Get It Right
by gleekilicious
Summary: '"Come on," Finn smiled, reaching out for Dave's shoulder again. "I've got a really good idea."' When Finn offers Dave a chance to make amends with Kurt, he'd be a fool not to take it. And besides, Finn's right. He really has nothing left to lose.
1. The party

**A/N: So, I thought it was finally time to contribute to the Kurtofsky fandom! I'm a huge Kurtofsky fan, and I come to you with fic. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and huge thanks to my amazing beta, Tess!**

**X x X x X x X**

In hindsight, Dave should have stayed at home. He should have told Azimio he needed to do something about his failing grades, he needed to help his mom clean up, or even he simply couldn't be fucked and he didn't want to go to a dumb footballer-players-and-some-girls-only party at Strando's house. Whose fucking punch had been spiked almost instantly. Which was why Dave was sitting on the corner of a sofa in a room where some dumb action movie was playing on a huge TV, the sound of explosions and gunshots ripping through his eardrums and slamming into his woozy head - which was carefully cradled in his hands. Well, hand. The other was still clutching his drink like it was the last thing keeping him sane in this hell.

Puckerman made a vaguely I'm-about-to-hurl sounding noise from beside him, Dave taking that as his cue to leave before the vom-cano belched forth all over him. He'd already seen thathappen at the weird drinking assembly, and he didn't want to be the next one to get puked on after Berry.

The floor was unsteady beneath his feet as he lurched out of the room, placing his red cup down somewhere and promptly losing it among the sea of plastic around him, shaking his head a little to try and clear his vision. This had been such a big, fucking mistake and now some dumb girl was clinging to his arm and whining about dancing. Dave gently pushed her away, into the arms of some other guy, and continued past them, shouldering people aside as he went. Finally he reached the stairs, almost tripping over a couple making out.

Dave cursed softly, giving them a venomous glare as he moved past them and upstairs, finally opening the door to Strando's 'homework' room, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized it was indeed empty. The heavy beat of the music and the film echoed through the floor as Dave staggered over to the small sofa and collapsed down on it, throwing his forearm over his face and waiting until the world stopped spinning and the sickness in his stomach slowly died down.

Dave was woken from his silent stupor ten or so minutes later by his phone buzzing violently in his pocket. With a groan he scrambled for it, blinking blearily as he opened the message from Azimio.

'dud dis paty iz awsum gt a chik wre r u'

It took Dave a good few moments to decipher the text, decide he really couldn't give a flying fuck about Azimio at this moment in time, and drop his phone to the floor next to him. Fucking Azimio. The guy was supposed to be his best friend, but all he did was try to set him up on dates, or give him some bimbo's phone number while _constantly _asking why he didn't get a girlfriend, why didn't he _want _a girlfriend and giving him that damn look that so clearly said 'what the fuck is wrong with you?'

He knew exactly what was wrong with him. He knew _exactly _what was fucking wrong with him, and he hated it. Hated how he felt like everyone _knew, _that the minute anything remotely gay was brought up it felt like every fucking eye in the room was on him, David Karofsky, hot and angry and small and so, so scared. He couldn't take it. His grades had slumped. He could hardly concentrate in football; the locker room was _hell_... and out of everything, out of every single little fucking thing that felt like a big, angry, demonic lion was ripping his guts to shreds, the worst part was that Kurt had gone. He'd skipped his way off to that fucking gay school to be part of the fucking Swallowers or whatever their dumb-ass club was called, with that tiny, annoying little bastard that was blatantly his boyfriend, and...

… there was no-one to be angry at for that except himself. So he'd been doing what he always did; taking the pain and the hurt and the anger out on anyone who looked the wrong way at him. He'd become – for want of a better word – a dick. He knew it, his 'friends' knew it, and somehow... he just didn't care any more.

The door creaked open, Dave turning his head to look and sitting up slowly when one lumbering Finn Hudson stepped through the door, obviously drunk and not coping too well.

"Jeez, Frankenteen," Dave scoffed, "had enough to drink?"

"I need to talk about you. _To_ you. I mean, I need to talk to you about you, and..." he groped for the door, shutting it behind him in a gesture that made Dave's fight or flight instincts bubble up. "And the door needs to be closed, okay?"

"Hudson, what the fuck are you doing?" he growled, choosing flight and staggering to his feet as Finn held out his hands.

"No, dude, calm down. Just... just sit back down, okay? I've got it figured out." Dave's hands curled into fists, cold fear swelling within him and making a light sweat break out on his brow as he took a threatening step forwards.

"You don't know shit about me, Hudson, just go back downstairs."

"No, dude, look, just... look. It's okay." Finn reached out, touching Dave's shoulder. "See? We're okay, okay?" Dave had frozen up, eyes flicking from Finn's hand to his face, his breathing laced with panic. "I know I'm not like, smart. But I'm not _dumb_... I know that the last time, hell, dude, the _first_ time I ever saw you happy was when you were in Glee club with us...! And I know that you're actually a pretty sweet dancer, man, and a good singer... and... I know that you're gay, Dave," he said. "Not because anyone told me, I just worked it out a few moments ago and I don't think anyone else knows. Kurt might know because he says he can always tell but he didn't say anything, so I don't know if he does..." Finn finished, half a smile plastered on his goofy, stupid face.

"What the _fuck _are you talking about?" Dave snarled, grabbing Finn's wrist and shoving him back – away from him. "I'm not... I'm not fucking _gay_...! Jesus _Christ_, Hudson! Just because you live with a fag doesn't make me one!"

"Hey...! Hey. Hey." Finn twisted his hand – and holy shit, maybe he wasn't as drunk as Dave hoped he was – and grabbed Dave's wrist. "It's okay. I'm not going to say anything to anyone, okay? Not even Kurt. No-one." Dave gritted his teeth, chest heaving as he shook with pent up rage and terror.

"I'm not a fucking _fag_," he spat.

"I just want us to be friends, okay?" Finn said, a touch desperately, his face scrunched in a way that looked like he was trying to remember something. "I want you to know that it's okay and that... and that if you joined Glee club, you'd be accepted, dude. You might get some shit about bullying Kurt, but you wouldn't get any for being gay, 'cause we're not like that. Not even Puck. Not any more." Finn suddenly grinned, as if an epiphany had come to him. "You don't have to think that if you're gay, your life's going to miserable."

"_Shut the fuck up_," Dave growled, trying to shove the other boy away again, his heart hammering and a cold sweat on his brow as he tried to escape, to get out of the room before he snapped and did something he'd really, really regret. "I'm not a fag, and I'm _not _joining _homo explosion_ you fucking retard!"

"It doesn't matter what you say because I _know_ you were having the best time of your life singing and dancing, and you know what, dude?" He said, not removing his hand from Dave's wrist, "I think that you were being _you _up there. You're not this asshole of a guy who beats people up and breaks things, not really, dude... I mean, we knew each other back when we were like, eight, and you were really cool, man...! You're actually a really decent guy underneath all this... this anger. We all saw it." Dave's breathing was all over the place, he felt sick and dizzy and _god _he hoped this was just some alcohol related nightmare.

"If you joined Glee, you might get a slushie in your face or some people might give you shit, but every time you walk through that door you're walking into a group of friends who'll accept you and like you for who you are, whether you're... you're black or gay or in a wheelchair or _anything_, dude. Surely that's worth a few slushies and some jibes, right?"

"No, it's not, Hudson," he growled after a tense second of silence, trying to push the taller boy aside again. "I don't want your shitty _friendship_, I don't need you and I don't fucking need _Glee_." He was doing _fine_, people were leaving him alone and that was fucking _fine. _

"You're going to end up pushing away the only group of people in school who are ever going to like you for who you are, dude," Finn murmured, blocking his exit again. "You don't have to give up on football. Half the team's in Glee, and Kurt used to be in the team too, remember? And I'm going to be honest, okay? At the moment... no-one really likes you and it's _not_ because you're gay, it's because you're behaving like an ass. Sure, you might not get slushied, but even Azimio's gonna stop being friends with you soon, dude. Then you'll have no-one, and that feeling is worse than anything. Glee might not be cool, you might get called names and shit, but who cares, dude! It's _fun_, and you'll have twelve people there who'll always have your back, man," he said, sincerely.

"Who cares if you're not popular in high-school? High-school's just _school_ and it's not, like, real life! What are you going to lose if you join Glee? A bit of reputation? So what! It's better to be lame and have friends than cool and lonely, right?" He said, sincerely but with the rambling conviction that only Finn seemed to have, his stupid, dopey eyes staring right into Dave's. "And if you're worried about Glee being cold to you about Kurt, then all you have to do is tell Kurt you're sorry. He'll forgive you when he knows, dude."

"Listen," Dave snarled, grabbing two fists of Finn's shirt and slamming the taller boy up against the wall. "I'm not a fag, and I'm _not_ joining Glee. Got it?"

"Dude, chill...!" Finn said, hands gripping Dave's upper arms. "Look... out of everyone who you can tell... it's gonna be me, okay...? Kurt's my brother, and I'm not going to tell _anyone_ about this... about _you_, man... stop freaking out, okay? Just... take a few deep breaths." Dave gritted his teeth, trying to shove Finn way again. "Why don't you get that Glee could be the best thing to happen to you, and why don't you get that the people there, the _guys_ there won't _mind _that you're gay and that you'll have _real_ friends. People you can _talk_ to, and who'll actually give a damn about you! And why don't you get that the person who gives people the most shit for being gay is _you_, Dave?"

"Hudson, shut-"

"-You're bullying yourself, dude..." Finn said softly. "... You're the one not accepting yourself... you're like... your own Westboro Church, man..." Dave's heart was literally slamming against his ribs, every nightmare he'd had playing out in front of his very eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him.

"... I don't-... I don't give a fuck if anyone _accepts_ me," he spat, tearing his arms away and clenching his hands into fists as Finn blocked the door. "I don't want to be _accepted_, I don't _want _to be g-..." he cut himself off, biting down so hard on his tongue he could taste the tang of blood over his tonsils. All he could think of was that one fucking kiss, the look of _disgust _on Kurt's face and the _shock_;and the terrifying realization he'd just fucked everything up a thousand times more than he usually did.

"Dave... the only person telling you it's _not_ okay to be you is _you_, dude... People are changing, the world is changing and it's _okay_ now. I used to be really homophobic. I was scared of Kurt because he had a huge crush on me and yeah, it terrified me because I was _dumb_ and I didn't realize that Kurt's just like everyone else, and he's _allowed_ to like boys and he's _allowed_ to be who he is, just like you are, dude. You have to stop hurting yourself like this...!" he said softly, each word slamming into Dave like a bullet. "You didn't _choose_ this, it's not your fault! It's like hating yourself because you're ginger or something...! It's _not your fault_."

Finn was still blocking the door, the dense beat of the music making the floor vibrate beneath their feet, though the room was tense and silent save for Dave's harsh breaths. His eyes were glued to his feet, shoulders hunched and tense, hands fists. He felt dizzy, his stomach churning and heaving and to his utter disgust, his eyes were stinging, throat tight around what felt like a lump of burning coal. The silence stretched on until Finn shifted, worry starting to set in on his dumb features. "Da-"

"-So what now?" Dave suddenly spat out, his voice quiet but aching, raw and vulnerable and so, so angry. "You're gonna to tell everyone what _you _think about me? You're gonna get your fucking revenge on me?" His hands were shaking, every tendon in his neck standing out. "You're gonna blackmail me? You want me to quit the fucking football team, or join Glee or something?"

"_No_," Finn said quickly, shaking his head. "No, dude... I'm not going to anything like that, okay...? I want us to be friends."

"_Friends_?" Dave laughed, the sound harsh and anything but amused. "Well maybe I don't want to be _your _friend, Hudson, you think about that?"

"... I'm pretty sure at the minute, I'm the only friend you have..." Finn murmured, the words falling heavy and painful in the air between them. "... Dave... let's get out of this crappy party."

"Yeah?" He snapped, bitterly. "Where to, genius? We're _drunk_." Finn's lips curled into a grin.

"I'm not drunk, dude. I'm just drinking water," he said honestly. The urge to hit something or cry slammed back into Dave, because Finn was _sober_, he was terrifyingly _sober_ and he_ knew_. He knew... everything. "Come on," Finn smiled, reaching out for Dave's shoulder again. "I've got a really good idea." Dave made a noise halfway between despair a scoff, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "No, seriously...! Listen. Kurt and Blaine are at home, so you should come back with me and talk to them!"

"No." The words snapped out of him as he jerked back, stumbling away from Finn and shaking his head. "No. No way in _hell _am I doing that, Hudson." Finn took a cautious step forwards, his voice low.

"Dave, come on, dude... in all honesty, what do you have to lose? Your friends? 'Cause you don't exactly have any at the minute. Your reputation? No-one's going to know, and besides, all you're known for now is... being an asshole." Finn paused as Dave gritted his teeth, pressing his knuckles to his eyes again. "Come back with me. You can stay the night. We'll get a pizza and play Xbox and just hang out, okay? If you tell Kurt, then-"

"-Kurt already knows," Dave finally choked out, his voice rough and pained. "He knows, alright? And so does that... that stupid little hobbit."

"Oh," Finn said, blinking and obviously caught off-guard. "Oh... okay, well, then that makes this even easier, right? Actually that all makes a lot more sense, because I did always wonder why he went weirdly quiet and defensive when someone was talking shit about you..."

"He-... what...?" Dave asked, looking up as his insides clenched and swooped.

"Oh, um... like... well, Puck was being an ass when he was round at mine and, you know, making jokes about you and Kurt told him to shut up and then refused to let him have any of the cake he'd baked... though he said that was because Puck farted at the table, but I knew he was still pissed about before," Finn said softly, pulling a sheepish grin. Dave wasn't even listening any more, the shock of Finn's words slamming around his brain harder and faster than the alcohol. Kurt... didn't hate him. At least, not as much as he'd assumed he did, because... because he was defending him, in his own house, against one of his friends. Kurt. _Defending_ him, as a person.

The urge to cry washed back over him, but he ducked his head in time and forced it all back, sucking in a harsh breath. Finn smiled again, seeming to sense he might actually be getting somewhere. "Come on, dude. It'll be easy. I've got your back, okay?" Dave was silent, his whole body thrumming with the beat of the bass, the flush of alcohol and his own heart doing double-time, still hung up over what Finn had just said. Finally he jerked his head in a nod, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Okay. Fine."

"You'll... you're going to do it?" Finn grinned. Dave snorted despairingly, snatching his phone off the floor and righting himself as he swayed.

"I'm drunk; and if I don't get you away from here you'll do a thousand times more damage than if I just go with your batshit idea."

"Awesome! Come on, before some idiot throws eggs at my car or something." Finn turned, opening the door again and leading the way. Dave watched him for a moment before taking a deep breath, passing a slightly shaky hand over his eyes. How many nights had he spent dreaming up the perfect way to apologize? Imagining his chance to at least make things a little more right? Of having just five more minutes with Kurt, to somehow make him understand how much he regretted everything he'd done to him...? So why was he hesitating now...?

"Fuck..." he whispered, finally following Finn down the stairs and outside, into his car. It was because all those dreams had been just that. Dreams. Things he'd never really thought he'd get a chance at, and now that he _had _that chance... it felt like he was holding a tiny, delicate cobweb and at any moment his fingers could clumsily twitch and crush it, crush his last chance and crush any hope he had left for... anything.

Christ, he thought as Finn flicked on the radio and started to drive, could he _get _any more pathetic?

**X x X x X x X**

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! You can also find me on Tumblr, under the name Gleekilicious. I am a multishipper, but I do like to post snippets of upcoming fics and chapters, so check it out ;D! Reviews and so on are much, much appreciated :3 thank you! Once again, a huge thank you to my beta Tess, reallytessisamess on Tumblr!**


	2. The apology

**A/N: So my external HD went down along with all my fics, except this one which I had saved on my desktop. For everyone who reads Teenage Kicks and is waiting for a second chapter, it'll be soon, I promise!**

**Also, I forgot to mention that this fic is set after Season 2, Episode 15. There's no Bully Whips, no Born This Way, no Klaine kiss, nothing like that! Once again, huge thanks to my amazing beta Tess, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**X x X x X x X**

"I can't do this," Dave said suddenly, his hands clenching into fists on his knees as Finn swung his car into the driveway, Kurt's Navigator and the hobbit's shitty thing there already. He felt dizzy and entirely too sober to deal with this, his breathing harsh and caught awkwardly in his lungs.

"Dude," Finn murmured softly, parking the car and looking over as he let the engine idle. "What're you freaking out about...? You've already told me Kurt and Blaine know, so... what's the deal...?" Dave gritted his teeth, wishing Finn was either a bit dumber or a bit smarter rather than this frustrating mix of the two. He could hardly say that... that he didn't want Blaine to be there because even the mention of the guy sent him into an internal rage, a spiral of angst over the fact that it was _his _fault Kurt had gone running into those blazered arms, that if the little dick started rambling on about 'courage' and 'not alone' again something was probably going to end up being hit.

And he couldn't tell Finn that he was pretty damn sure he was desperately, hopelessly in love with the guy he'd bullied, shoved and then kissed before taking one final step into the bleakness that was now his life and threatened to kill him; and he was in no way ready to face up to the grim reality of what he'd done shining in Kurt's eyes. Oh, and he and Finn were now brothers.

"... Nothing," he murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing open the door of the car, passing his hand over his wallet still in his jeans. If things got desperate he could take a cab home. Dave closed the door loudly behind him, jumping as Finn clapped him on the shoulder.

"I've got your back, man." Dave opened his mouth to snap something back, some snide jibe or even a simple rebuke, but... facing a door – both literally and proverbially – he never thought he'd get to open... Dave decided he could do with a friend of sorts and simply nodded, ignoring Finn's wide, dopey smile. "Cool. Come on." Finn moved past Dave and unlocked the door, pausing and turning to him. "I'll go in first and, uh... prepare them. So it's not such a surprise, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." Dave shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to act nonchalant, but in reality it was to hide the way his hands were shaking. Finn closed the door behind them.

"Stay here a sec," he murmured, giving Dave a reassuring smile and walking into a room on the left. Dave breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself as he ran through all possible scenarios in his head, but he was jarred out of his mental anxiety by the sound of Kurt's slightly muffled voice.

"Finn? Why are you back so early...? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, guys...! Yeah, no, everything's cool. The party sucked anyway, and, uh... look, Kurt, you know how we've got this... this awesome brotherly trust thing going on...?" Dave gently let his forehead hit the wall. Way to be smooth, Hudson. Just as predicted, Kurt's tone was instantly suspicious.

"Finn, if you've broken something else I can't keep trying to cover for you."

"What? No, I haven't-... no. I brought someone back with me."

"Is it someone we know?" Blaine's voice cut through for the first time, Dave's jaw tightening a little. That stupid, idiotic, bastard little...

"Uh, yeah, uh... okay. Promise not to, uh, freak out."

"... Please tell me you haven't hooked up with... with someone, or someone."

"What! Dude! No! No, it's... uh, it's not a girl, okay?" Dave slowly knocked his forehead off the wall again. Well done, Hudson, well done. How could a guy so utterly, utterly dumb be so frustratingly perceptive?

"You-... wow," Blaine said, his tone shocked. "Didn't see that one coming."

"Finn, you're... gay...?"

"_What_! No! Guys, come on...! No, I mean... it's Dave, okay?" Suddenly the room went silent, Dave's own heart hammering in his chest, every nerve on buzzing and straining to hear what would be said next.

"Dave as in... Dave Karofsky...?" Blaine asked tentatively. Kurt's voice was sharp, but it wasn't... wasn't that hate-filled tone it usually was whenever Dave heard it.

"Why?"

"Because," Finn said, gently, "he's here to apologize." Dave sucked in a sharp, aching breath. He couldn't back out now, he couldn't run away from this all. He felt sick and though he'd definitely sobered up a bit, everything still felt... off.

"He's-... what...?"

"He came to apologize," Finn repeated. "He, uh... well, he didn't tell me, but I worked out he was gay and we talked about it, and he said you two already knew so _I _said he should come and apologize and he agreed to." Dave hunched his shoulders up, forehead still pressed to the wall. Why _had_ he agreed to all of this again...?

"Oh... well..." there was a pause before Kurt spoke again, still sounding shocked. "Well... you'd better let him in, then." Anxiety and panic hit Dave in a rush as he jerked back from the wall, his hands going back to shaking as his mind blanked. The door opened and Finn grinned, looking relieved as he nodded to Dave.

"Come in, dude." Dave swallowed, opening his mouth to speak, to tell Finn he couldn't do this and he was leaving – he was getting a cab and going home and Kurt could continue his life Dave-free with his dumb little boyfriend and-... the way Finn had opened the door and moved meant that he could see Kurt, curled up on the sofa with a blanket over his legs, an unreadable look on his face – oh, _god_, his _face – _and suddenly Dave felt like he couldn't breathe. "Dude...? You... you okay...?" Finn asked, softly.

"I-... yeah," Dave breathed, the air knocked out of him and then replaced so quickly he felt dizzy; though it could have been the alcohol. This was it. This was the moment he'd literally been dreaming off, and fine, he had to do it in front of Finn and that fucking little blazerphile, but at least he had the chance to do it at all. He stepped into the room, trying not to obviously stare at Kurt.

"Hey, Dave," Blaine smiled from his spot next to Kurt – so close their shoulders were brushing, and Dave wanted to snap at him to shut up or... or _anything_, but he knew that insulting Kurt's boyfriend wasn't going to do him any favors at all. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and nodded his head in Blaine's direction, his eyes flicking to rest on Kurt's face and-... yeah. There went the air again. Dave jumped as Finn touched his shoulder, jolting him back into reality. Just as he opened his mouth, trying to find even the beginnings of an apology, Kurt spoke.

"... You can sit down, you know," he murmured, gesturing to a chair opposite the sofa. Dave nodded, his mind blanking as he turned to look at one of the chairs before moving to sit on it, right on the edge as he gripped his knees. Finn awkwardly sat down too, in the one beside him.

"Uh... Dave's had a little to drink," he said, obviously trying to explain why Dave was acting so weird. Kurt's nose wrinkled a little, but he didn't say anything.

"Was it a good party...?" Blaine asked, obviously trying to dispel some of the tension in the room as Dave struggled to even find a single word to say. Finn nodded and then shrugged his shoulder.

"Kind of. I mean, it was loud and there was booze, but Puck was hurling in the bathroom and I think some of the guys were smoking something, and... yeah. It wasn't as fun as the movies make it look, and-"

"-Finn," Kurt interjected, softly but firmly. "Blaine. Can you... give David and I a minute, please?" Dave's head snapped up, eyes a little wider as he stared at Kurt. That was the absolute last thing he'd been expecting.

"I-... yeah, sure," Finn nodded, standing again as Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt's shoulder.

"No problem. We'll just be in the kitchen."

"Thanks," Kurt murmured, watching the two leave, the door clicking closed behind them. Dave felt like he was on some sort of internal roller-coaster, a mixture of every emotion going, his fingers shaking and breathing a little harder because now he was alone with Kurt in his sitting room. Kurt's gaze was heavy on him and he couldn't meet it, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out, a moment later. "For... letting me talk and... and sending them out."

"... I figured if you came out to Finn and then came here to apologize, you're not exactly about to do something that means I need someone else in the room," he said softly. "Besides... I don't think this is the sort of thing that should have an audience." Dave's shoulders sagged, some of the unbearable tension seeping from his frame. Already this was going better than he'd ever hoped it could.

"I-... yeah," he nodded, finally lifting his gaze to meet Kurt's, his stomach clenching. "Kurt... I-... all those things I did to you... I'm... I'm so sorry, and... and you... I-... you didn't deserve any of it, just... just because I thought... I thought it would somehow make me not... not this," he mumbled, once again staring at his feet.

"Not gay," Kurt said softly, a shuddering breath leaving Dave as he slowly nodded.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I-... I treated you the worst and..." Dave swallowed, thickly. His throat felt like it was closing up on him and he clenched his eyes shut. He was _not _going to cry. "And I wish I could take it back and... and not do it, but I can't and..." he took another shaky breath, pressing his knuckles to his eyes. "And I'm... I'm so sorry... I just-... I'm... I'm so sorry," he repeated, voice cracking over the last words. There was a long silence and Dave was on the brink of standing, turning and running out – dignity be dammed – before Kurt spoke again, his tone gentle.

"I forgive you." It felt like the last weight across Dave's shoulders had been broken, the last rock in his gut lifted, the last nail in his back pulled free. He felt like he was flying and falling at the same time and nothing could stop the small sob from escaping him, his hands covering his face as he tried his hardest not to just... break down. He flinched, glancing up as he heard movement by him, surprised to see Kurt coming over with a box of tissues. Dave took them, knowing that he was losing the battle against tears; though his heart was hammering because instead of going back over to the couch, Kurt was sitting on the chair beside him.

"Why...?" he managed to croak out, scrunching up a tissue and pressing it to his eyes, trying to stave off any moisture.

"Why what...?"

"Why do you forgive me...? I was... I was so awful to you, and... I did all those things... I made you _transfer_," he gritted out, keeping the tissue pressed over his eyes. "I made your life hell... I-... I said I'd kill you..."

"Yeah," Kurt murmured, "you did... you made me scared to walk down the hallways, and you made me scared to even leave and enter school by myself..." Kurt's words cut into Dave, harder and more painful than almost anything he'd felt before, though he had no-one to blame but himself. "But," he continued, after a second, "despite all that... I couldn't hate you. Believe me, I tried... I know what it's like to be in the closet, I know what it's like to be scared and hate yourself... and even when you were... were stealing my cake toppers and shoving me into lockers, I knew it was because you were even more scared of me than I was of you."

Dave choked out another small noise, Kurt's words hitting hard and true. "I..."

"I left because... I didn't want to out you, or press charges like my dad wanted me to, but I needed to get away from the worsening situation... not to mention the teaching at Dalton's better," he murmured, obviously trying for a bit of humor.

"And that-... and Anderson was there," Dave muttered, before he could help himself. Kurt stiffened, glancing towards the door before he hummed softly.

"... And because Blaine was there," he nodded after a moment. Dave exhaled shakily. "But the fact that you came out to Finn and then came here to apologize... it means a lot. It's... it's definitely a step in the right direction, and I know you mean it. So... I forgive you, David."

"Thanks," Dave mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stop the fucking tears.

"... The fact you're crying is helping," Kurt said softly, a smile to his voice. Dave snorted weakly, grabbing another stupid tissue.

"Shut up," he murmured, not meaning it at all as he took a deep breath and pulled the damp tissues away, knowing his eyes were red and puffy, cheeks flushed and... a mess. A slightly drunken mess.

"Did Finn plan beyond this?" Kurt asked, watching him carefully.

"Uh... no, I don't think so... he mentioned something about Xbox, but... I can... I can go. I should go," he amended, clutching the tissue in his hand. Kurt shook his head after a second.

"It's fine, Finn can set you up a bed on the floor of his room. It's late and you certainly can't drive. My dad and Carole are away for the weekend, so they can't take you back. Besides," he said, standing. "If you keep Finn entertained, it means he won't come down and bother me about being bored and or hungry every ten minutes." Dave snorted again, his lips curling into a half a smile. "There's a bathroom through there. Cold water will help the... you know," Kurt smiled, waving his fingers around his eyes to indicate the crying.

"Thanks, Kurt," he murmured, standing and shoving the tissues into his pocket and taking a deep breath. Dave moved past him, going into the small bathroom Kurt had pointed out and closed the door behind him. He gripped the sink, looking into the mirror at himself.

He was shaking, barely able to believe that that had happened. That... Kurt forgave him. That he'd been given his chance to apologize, had seized it and... _been forgiven_. It was more than he'd ever expected, so much more than he deserved. Dave could hear Finn and Blaine come back into the sitting room as he ducked his head, scooping cold water into his hands and splashing his face with it, waiting until he didn't look like he'd been crying like a girl before coming back out.

Kurt and Blaine were on the sofa again and Finn was staring listlessly at the weird musical thing they were watching, perking up the second Dave entered the room.

"Hey, dude...!" he grinned, standing up immediately. "Kurt said you were cool to stay, so I already made up the bed."

"No, Finn," Kurt said smoothly, crooking an eyebrow, "_I _made up the bed. _You _don't know how to change a pillowcase. Don't try to take credit for my work when I'm right here." Blaine laughed and Dave's lips curled into a ghost of a smile, raising an eyebrow at the slightly flustered Finn.

"Whatever, man. Let's go," he said, nudging Dave and heading for the stairs, thundering up the stairs to his room and flicking on the Xbox, tossing Dave a controller with a grin. "Let's see how good you are at Halo."

X x X

Dave silently opened the door to Finn's bedroom, creeping down the stairs. It was late at night, the house dark and silent. He and Finn had stayed up for hours, playing on the Xbox, joking and laughing and... having a really good night. For the first time in years he felt free. Finn knew his secret, didn't care and treated him like... like he was human. A person. A friend. It was liberating and amazing and... it was nothing like the fear and unease that came from hanging out with Az, and nothing like the pain of being alone all the time.

It was intense and better than he'd ever thought it could be. He felt like a whole new person. But he'd woken up thirsty, the beginnings of a light hangover kicking in, and he needed some water desperately. He navigated the stairs slowly, dressed in one of Finn's larger t-shirts and a pair of shorts, though both were a bit tight on him – something Finn had laughed at before Dave had thrown a shoe at his head. He pushed open the door to what he hoped was the kitchen and stepped in.

Before he'd even got his foot on the floor he'd frozen, because a figure was gripping the sink, back to Dave and the light from the moon making his clothes and hair look silver. He realized a split second later it was Kurt and sucked in a sharp breath, gaze glued to him. Kurt turned, his eyes wide and mouth open and-... oh.

He was crying.

"D-... David, what... what are you doing up?" he mumbled, turning back to the sink and taking a deep breath, though it was ragged and painful.

"I-... water," he said back, feeling utterly lost. "Are you okay...?" Kurt snorted wetly, that simple sound speaking volumes. He was not okay, not at all. Dave took a cautious step into the room, painfully aware that this was a situation Kurt had probably been in before because of him and he had no right to be here. "That was a dumb question," he murmured.

"Yeah," Kurt muttered, reaching for paper towel off the roll and scrunching it tight in his hand; he wipe at his face and took another shuddering breath. "I-... I didn't think anyone would be awake..."

"Sorry..." the silence trailed on, but somehow it didn't turn awkward. Just... heavy. "It's not... it's not my fault, right...?" he asked, a second later.

"No," Kurt whispered, turning from the sink and moving to the table, sitting down heavily and dropping his head into his hands. Dave nodded in relief and, after a moment, slowly moved to sit opposite Kurt. "It's-... it's stupid, I-... you weren't meant to see this..."

"Well... I cried earlier, so... we can call this even...?" Kurt made a strangled noise that Dave hoped was a laugh of some sort and fell silent, snuffling softly.

"... It's Blaine," he finally whispered, voice thick and broken. Oh. Great. Like Dave didn't already want to punch the little hobbit's face in. He scowled darkly.

"What did he do?"

"It's more... what he didn't do," Kurt mumbled, wiping at his eyes again. "It's-... god, it's so stupid... I know he's right, but... I just thought..." he trailed of, Dave waiting a few seconds before speaking.

"... I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"I-... Blaine and I were talking and... I had a crush on him for ages, but..." Dave's insides curled tight and he suddenly wished he'd gone and woken Finn to deal with this, because hearing Kurt talk about his crush on Blaine was just... painful. "But it's... I know that... I know that I'm not his type, and I know that... that he's not really mine, either... but I-... I got all hopeful and I thought that... that maybe _something _could happen..." he stopped again, taking a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. "But he... he made it perfectly clear that... that nothing's going to happen and... I saw it coming, christ, I've seen it coming since that stupid GAP attack..."

"The GAP attack...?" Dave asked.

"Oh, god... he had this... this huge crush on some guy and sung him this totally inappropriate song and... it was a disaster."

"Oh," Dave murmured, looking down at his hands for a second. "Okay... so..."

"So," Kurt continued, "so... I just... I had a hope that we could make something work and..." his shoulders slumped heavily. Dave was suddenly struck by how small Kurt looked, and how much he wanted to reach out and touch. Help. Comfort. Do _something_. "It's stupid," Kurt whispered again. "I don't even... I know he's right and we make better friends than... than boyfriends, but... but this is the third time it's happened to me, and..."

"Wait, third...?" Dave asked before he could help himself.

"... I-... I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this..."

"I' don't really have anyone to tell," he murmured, shrugging a shoulder.

"I used to have a huge crush on Finn," Kurt admitted, a few long moments later. "Though that was quickly crushed once I started doing his laundry," he added dryly, despite the fact it was obvious he'd started crying again. "And then... then Sam, and now Blaine... I just..." he shook his head slightly, mopping his cheeks again. "When's it my turn...?" he whispered, so softly Dave almost missed it. Dave hesitated, mouth open. He had no idea what to say, no idea what to _do _and he felt awful because... he was _so _glad Kurt and Blaine weren't dating. Though Blaine was an asshole and an idiot not to grab Kurt while he had the chance, in his opinion. Kurt stood, pushing away from the table with one final deep breath, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He handed it over with a tight smile. "Here."

"Thanks..." Dave mumbled, taking it and sipping, still sitting at the table. After a moment Kurt stood.

"I should get back to bed before Blaine wakes up and comes looking for me..."

"Okay," he murmured, standing too and following Kurt out, the half-empty glass in hand. "Kurt," he said softly, pausing by the door that lead to Kurt's room after they'd climbed the stairs in silence. "I'm... sorry about the Blaine thing." Kurt blinked at him, obviously taken aback by the sincerity in Dave's voice. He nodded after a second and crooked a small smile.

"Thanks..." Dave nodded back and turned, his hand on Finn's door. "David...?"

"Yeah...?" he whispered, turning his head back to Kurt.

"... I didn't mean what I said in the locker room. You're not fat, and you're not going go bald any time soon." Dave blinked, his eyes widening but before he could even begin to think of a reply Kurt was gone, his door clicking shut behind him.

Dave was pretty sure he'd never felt such a weird mix of elation and confusion in his life.

**X x X x X x X**

**A/N Thank you so much for reading, and thank you so much for all your support! I hope you enjoy this chapter – and thank you so much for all the reviews, they brighten my day and are so encouraging! Once again, a huge thanks to my beta Tess (reallytessisamess on Tumblr). You can also find me on Tumblr, under the name Gleekilicious.**


	3. The storm

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**X x X x X x X**

Breakfast the next morning was not the awkward affair Dave had imagined it was going to be. He'd had the best night's sleep in what felt like literally years, Kurt's parting words a soothing mantra in his head, an uplifting change from the spat 'well guess what, Hamhock, you're not my type!' that usually bounced around his skull at night. His hangover had been barely noticeable, and before he and Finn were even really dressed and awake, the smell of cooking was wafting up from the kitchen.

He'd never seen Finn move so fast, barely catching the strangled gasp of 'ohmygodKurt'smadechoc-chippancakes' before the boy was out of the door and thundering down the stairs, Dave following at a more sedate pace. He'd barely been able to resist grabbing a fistful of Blaine's shirt and making him pay for making Kurt cry when he saw him, sitting at the table and laughing along to whatever Kurt had been saying before Finn crashed his way into the room.

"Dudes," Finn grinned, sitting at the table. "Pancakes. Awesome." Kurt rolled his eyes, expertly flipping said pancakes.

"Yes, Finn. Probably the only thing that'll get you out of bed in the mornings," he said drily, earning a snort from both Dave and Blaine – though Dave then ignored the amicable smile Blaine shot him straight afterwards. Breakfast passed quickly, and _damn _was Kurt a good cook. Great, Dave mused as he managed to at least stack the plates before Kurt took them from him with a small smile of thanks – his heart jumping at it. Just another thought to add to his growing list of 'Things I Like About Kurt Hummel'.

It was an hour later, he and Finn deep in an intense game of Halo Reach, when Kurt knocked on the door. "David? I'm about to go to the store and I was wondering if you wanted a lift home. Not that I'm trying to kick you out, I just think it's going to rain and Finn's driving is terrifying at the best of times."

"Hey...!"

"The mailman, Finn. The mailman." Finn opened his mouth to retort and shut it again with a small glower.

"Is Blaine still here? He totally said he'd play Mario Kart with me – he's really bad," Finn grinned at David, his mood flipping, "and he starts jumping around when he loses. It's _hilarious_."

"I'm sure it is," Dave snorted, hitting pause and standing.

"Blaine's gone," Kurt called from his own room, reappearing a moment later with a coat on. "About twenty minutes ago. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded, a sudden wave of nervousness washing through him as Kurt nodded and shot him another smile.

"Alright. See you downstairs in a minute," he said, turning and leaving. Dave looked back to Finn and bit the inside of his cheek for a second.

"...thanks, Finn." he said softly, hoping that Finn would realize that it wasn't just a thanks for the game or anything; but a thanks for reaching out, even when he'd bit ferociously back at him. For seeing past the anger and self-hate and... and giving him a second chance. One he didn't really deserve. A thanks for everything. He had an awful, weird feeling that somehow – perhaps a few months or a year down the line, he'd have done something drastic if he'd continued like he had been, and in some odd, twisted way... Finn had saved his life.

Finn grinned, clapping Dave's shoulder and squeezing softly. "It's cool, dude. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right," Dave croaked, suddenly feeling way too vulnerable again as he swallowed and nodded.

"Oh! You should give me your number – we should totally hang out again soon. I'll try to get you over when Kurt's making chocolate cake; I swear to god, that's the closest to heaven there is." Dave snorted a laugh and plucked out his phone, trying not to think about how his insides clenched at the mention of being allowed to come around again – to see Kurt again. Preferably without Blaine.

"David! Come on – it's starting to rain," Kurt called, an edge of impatience to his tone. Dave shoved his mobile back in his pocket after getting his number, shot a small, thankful smile to Finn and left, heading downstairs.

"Chill, Fancy, I'm here," he said, pleased to note that he sounded a lot more suave than... creepy. It was insane just how much had changed in the period of a day. How they'd gone from... from Kurt hating him (rightfully, in Dave's honest opinion) to Kurt giving him a lift home. Insane.

"Fancy? Really? Don't you have a coat?" Kurt asked, opening the door and grabbing his keys, leading them out and into the drive. It was starting to drizzle, a cold splatter of rain Dave simply hunched his shoulders against.

"Nah. I think it's at Strando's, actually... Puckerman probably puked on it or something. I won't call you it if it's offensive," he added apologetically.

"Charming. Fancy's fine. I'd hate to break a tradition," Kurt snorted, his nose wrinkling as he climbed into the driver's seat. He waited until Dave was in and had done up his seatbelt before turning on the engine. "I really don't see the appeal of those sorts of parties."

"It was a dive," Dave nodded, forcing himself to relax and not think about how he was in a small, enclosed space with Kurt. "I only went to get drunk for free."

"And I don't see the appeal in _that _either."

"What, you've never been drunk before?" Dave asked, looking over. It wasn't surprising, really. He didn't think it was Kurt's scene.

"I was. Once. At school." Kurt muttered, going a little pink as he pulled out of the drive and onto the road. "Left or right?"

"Uh, right. What happened? When was this?" Kurt turned right dutifully and sighed.

"Alright, so... Mr. Schue called in this ex-glee-clubber called April Rhodes to help us last year, and she was a barely functioning alcoholic. Anyway, she took to me and tricked me into getting very drunk with her on boxed wine first thing in the morning and..." Kurt cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "And gave me some rather... inappropriate magazines." Dave choked on air, eyes widening a little.

"She gave you-"

"-they were just men's health slash body building magazines," Kurt said, his voice a little higher and cheeks a little pinker. "Nothing... _that _bad, but anyway, I was drunkenly trudging around school with _those _in my hands, and when I met Mrs. Pillsbury in the hall, I..."

"You...?" Dave prompted, listening intently as he pointed out a corner for Kurt to turn.

"...I told her I was sad 'the hunters shot your mommy, Bambi', and then I was violently ill all over her shoes." There was a second of silence before Dave burst out laughing, almost doubling over with it. The mental image of Kurt drunk, clutching soft-core pornography and calling Mrs. Pillsbury 'Bambi' before spewing all over her was – frankly – hilarious beyond words. "Yes," Kurt said, irritably, "ha-de-ha. Very funny. I'm going to park at a gas station and make you hitch-hike home if you keep laughing."

"Sorry, sorry," Dave mumbled, quelling his amusement and trying to keep a straight face. "'S a good reason not to drink, really."

"While it left almost no lasting memories, believe me, I've seen enough drunken shenanigans to thoroughly put me off alcohol."

"Gotta admit, watching Brittany hurl all over Berry was as disgusting as it was _hilarious_," Dave grinned, slumping back a little in his chair. "Left."

"Oh, god. I saw the video of it," Kurt said with a shudder. "And then Santana... I can't believe Figgins thought it was all special effects."

"..._seriously_?"

"He also thinks Tina is a vampire, so..."

"Jeez," Dave snorted, shaking his head. "That guy's... wow." Kurt laughed softly, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. They sat in silence for a few moments, the rain hitting the windshield.

"Thanks for not saying anything to Blaine this morning..."

"It's fine," Dave murmured. "I mean... 's between you two. Not my place."

"Still. I appreciate it. It was nice to be able to say something without it getting spread around... I love 'Cedes and Rachel – and Finn, too – but they're all terrible, terrible gossips." Kurt glanced over, the edge of a smile hovering around his lips.

"It's fine," he said again, feeling his cheeks up. The silence fell thickly between them, Dave finally breaking it after pointing out another left for Kurt to take. "How... how come..." he shifted, running his hand through his hair. "How come you forgave me so easily...? Why're you doing all of this for me...?" Kurt exhaled slowly.

"I've known how much you were struggling with yourself... it's why I didn't press charges, like my dad wanted, or take it further – I just left... but I also knew that every time you were lashing out at me, you were just lashing out at yourself, really. After a while I stopped seeing your hate and started seeing your fear. It meant a lot when you came and apologized – not just because it was nice to have that after all those times, but..."

Kurt looked over again and smiled. "But because it was a huge step for you, too. To face the wrongs, but also to admit as to why you did them. Besides," he snorted, "how could I preach acceptance and then not accept you, right?"

"Right," Dave whispered, pressing his thumb to the corner of his eye and trying not to do something dumb like cry. _Again._

"You can never have too many friends," Kurt said softly, "and at the minute... I don't think you have many at all."

"Yeah, I- thanks... I really don't deserve all of this," he mumbled, voice tight.

"Well... I have the feeling you're going to earn what you haven't already. This is your street, right?" Kurt smiled, slowing down as Dave nodded and pointed out his house. Kurt parked the car, the engine idling.

"Thanks," Dave said again, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door. "Thanks for... everything."

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you around, David. Take care."

"Yeah," he nodded, crooking a small smile back and gently closing the door, watching as Kurt turned the car and drove away, his eyes tracking the car until it turned a corner and disappeared. He let out a huge, shaky breath and rubbed his hands over his face.

The whole thing felt like a dream. It was too good to be true, too perfect. He had an invitation back and although it was technically under 'Hanging with Finn', he'd get to spend some time with Kurt too. Not only that, but Kurt and Blaine _weren't _dating and probably weren't going to, and... he knew something about Kurt – something close to him, emotional and vulnerable that no-one else did. After a moment of just letting the rain track down his face Dave inhaled sharply and turned, going back into his own house and calling out to his mom, letting her know he was back safely.

**X x X**

It was just as Dave had decided it was time to shower before getting an early night that his phone buzzed with a text. He frowned softly, picking it up. The number was new, but he opened it anyway.

_**Hey. It's Kurt. Finn gave me your number. He's prone to losing his phone so I thought you'd better have mine just in case.**_

Dave flushed, a small, stupid smile creeping across his face as he read and reread the number and the text, taking a moment before replying.

_**oh ok cool. thanks. did u get back ok?**_

He slowly sat back down on his bed, waiting anxiously for a response as he added Kurt's number to his phone. He hesitated, that old fear curling in him as he stared at 'Kurt' shining up from the screen. What if Azimio saw it? Or Strando? What if they looked through his texts and saw them speaking, and then... then what if they worked it out like Finn had? After a second he changed Kurt to 'K', and left it at that.

_**I did, thank you. You were right by the way. Word is Puck's in hospital having his stomach pumped.**_

Dave winced, blanching a little.

_**jeez. i'm glad i got out of there fore the cops came then**_

_**Lucky indeed. I'll speak to you later, it's my bedtime. Bye.**_

_**see you later. thanks again**_

_**No problem.**_

Dave slowly put his phone aside, exhaling softly and shakily. He had Kurt's number. He had Kurt's number, and Kurt was texting him. _Talking _to him, outside of his house. Willingly talking to him. Dave shook his head, standing. It was surreal.

Things like this, amazing things like this, just didn't happen to him. He wasn't _supposed _to get the boy he liked; he was supposed to be the bad guy who grew up and got an ugly, mannish wife and jerked off at 2AM and worked in some crap little office job and got fat and bald and either killed himself or died of some sort of cancer, while Kurt was meant to go to New York or London and be famous and date guys like Blaine and get a civil partnership and adopt babies and... _live._ Dave was a Lima Loser, and Kurt...

…Kurt was the shining star Dave would always want to touch, and would always be a thousand million billion miles away from. But now it felt like Kurt was there – _right there –_ and if Dave was careful and gentle... he had a chance. A real, honest-to-God chance.

He felt almost dizzy with the thoughts, with the sudden flood of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to have a happy ending too. That he didn't have to live his life alone and miserable. That despite his sins, despite how bad of a person he'd been... he had another shot.

"Shower," he mumbled to himself, trying to come back down to reality as he grabbed his towel.

**X x X**

Kurt sighed softly, laying on his back in his bed. What was he _doing_...? Sure, it was one thing to forgive his ex-bully, but to reach out and forge a friendship...? With the guy who'd sent him home in tears day after day...? It wasn't as if he hadn't cried over Finn before, though. Or Sam. Or Blaine... and Puck had bullied him just as badly... why was David different...?

Because David _understood_. David was scared and alone – and Kurt knew what that felt like. He knew what it was like to hate himself for something he couldn't control. He remembered trying to fit in, he remembered what it was like to feel isolated and _wrong_. He'd been able to come out to his dad, to his friends and while he did get bullied for it, well... you got bullied for anything, really. But he was pretty sure David didn't have – or didn't _feel _he had – that support system at home, and he certainly didn't have it amongst his friends.

In fact, Kurt was willing to bet his best McQueen sweater that he and Finn were the only true friends David had; or was in the process of getting. There was something so sad and vulnerable in David, a lost little boy who used to hurt before he got hurt – and sure, Kurt had been the target of his fury and it was a horrifying ordeal – but David had come to him and apologized. Cried. _Meant it_. He could tell with one look, even if he'd been blinded by hate and resentment, that every fumbled, choked out word was utterly honest and true.

Which brought him to another, much more intense, thought. Just how much did David _like _him? How much of that kiss was a desperate reach out to him, for help or some sort of gratification, just because he was gay, and how much was because David wanted to kiss _him_...? He was acutely aware that in that moment, alone in the locker room, had David decided to take that second kiss he could have, oh so easily.

But he'd left – ran out with his proverbial tail between his legs, and apart from one insanely creepy touch as he took the cake topper, he'd done nothing sexual after that. He taken 'no' for an answer in that retrospect... Kurt groaned softly and turned over, burying his face in the pillow.

And on what level did he like David? Enough to be his friend? Yes. Enough to trust him...? Yes. Enough to help him? Definitely! But... where did it stop...? In the locker room, he'd attacked David viciously on what he'd thought had been his weakness. His looks. He _liked _a guy with muscle, with stance... with confidence, looks, wit and charm, and...

It was all too complicated, too new and too... weird. He needed some time to think about the whole thing, to work through what he could do now. Obviously he was still at Dalton, but... the threat was removed, and... he could be with his friends again. David had been the only thing keeping him away – and Blaine, before _that _went kind of wrong in the whole relationship department...

Kurt heaved another sigh and closed his eyes. He needed some sleep. All he knew at the moment was that David needed a friend who understood, and he needed help to accept himself. To smile more – to feel _safe_. And... Kurt knew he could give him that.

He was probably the only one who could.

**X x X**

Next Friday found Dave with another invite to the Hummel-Hudson house. Finn had texted him late Thursday evening, saying his mom and Burt were visiting some distant relative of his, and he should totally come over and hang out. Dave had, of course, readily agreed and hitched a lift back with Finn after school. He'd come prepared this time, both with an overnight bag and a few games; but most importantly, hidden in a small box in the very bottom of his bag, was the cake topper he'd stolen from Kurt all those months ago.

"Kurt's still coming home from Dalton. The drive is like... insane. He won't be back for an hour, so we'll grab some snacks until he cooks," Finn grinned, looking over as he pulled up outside the front door and shut off the engine.

"Cool," Dave nodded, grabbing his bag and getting out. "I brought some racing games too. Just in case you get tired of me killing you again and again and-"

"-Yeah, yeah," Finn grumbled, unlocking the door and letting them in, flicking on a few lights. Before long the two were engrossed in a game of Mario Kart, laughing and swearing at each other. The sound of a car pulling up had Finn pausing the game. "Kurt's home...!" He stood and went to the door, Dave following after a second. His stomach clenched, nerves fluttering as he exhaled slowly, self-consciously adjusting his clothing. Kurt had his back to them, hanging up his coat on a peg.

"Ugh, that drive was _terrible_, there was some _absolute idiot _in front of me for _miles_, and I-" he turned, blinking as he caught sight of Dave. "...oh. Hello."

"Hey, Kurt!" Finn grinned, going over. "Dave's here!"

"I can see that," Kurt said dryly, crooking a small smile. "Are you staying the night?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "If that's okay..."

"Of course it is. I'll set up the bed again after I've changed," he snorted, gently moving past them and upstairs with a flick of his fingers, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

"...are you okay?" Finn asked, nudging Dave.

"What? Yeah, of course. Why?"

"You were making a weird face. Are you hungry?" Dave almost snorted, astounded at the levels of stupidity Finn so often displayed.

"Nah, I'm fine. Let's go finish that race."

**X x X**

"Et voila," Kurt grinned, placing down the steaming dishes of pasta in front of Dave and Finn. "Chicken, mushroom and bacon pasta in a cream sauce – with a non-optional salad. Enjoy." He sat back down, taking his own plate as Finn started to practically inhale his food. Kurt gave him a withering look. "Really, Finn? You're not a Hoover." Finn grunted something incoherent and didn't stop, winking at Dave who bit back a laugh, eating his own food in a much more sedate manner.

"This is really good. Thanks," he murmured, glancing up with a small, brief smile.

"My pleasure. You can come for dinner again. Good table manners, polite, and you don't talk with your mouth full. Finn... it's not looking so good for you," Kurt said, glaring at Finn again.

"Mrghghn. Mhfn."

"You're disgusting," Kurt sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Dave. He couldn't help the short snort this time, ignoring the betrayed look Finn shot him and concentrating on eating an a way that wasn't... well, animalistic. Despite how amazing the food was. So much better than his mom's cooking, in all honesty. Dave couldn't stop glancing up at Kurt, watching him as he ate, bickering back and forth with Finn. He was more than content just to sit there and listen, but soon he was being drawn into the conversation and even managing to crack a few jokes and witty lines that had Kurt laughing and shooting him a warm smile that made all of his insides clench.

Suddenly Finn's mobile went off, Dave and Kurt watching as Finn frowned and pulled it from his pocket. "It's Rachel... hold on. Hello? Yeah. Uh... um... what- no, I-... Rachel, it's okay. I'm c-... don't... don't cry...! I'm on my way." He stood, hanging up as Kurt and Dave shot him quizzical looks. "Rachel's missed the last bus and she's stranded at some weird stop. I have to go and pick her up, she says a stor-"

A huge clap of thunder rocked the house, Kurt jumping dramatically as even Dave flinched.

"...a storm's coming," Finn said, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his coat. "I'll be back soon, okay? I'm just going to pick her up and drop her off."

"Alright," Kurt nodded. "Drive carefully, okay? Don't do anything... Finn-like."

"I won't," he grinned. "Are you two going to be okay here...?"

"Of course. And tell Rachel to learn to read a bus timetable," Kurt smiled, starting to gather up the plates as another drum-roll of thunder rolled across the house. Finn took his keys, waved at Dave and left, slamming the door behind him.

Dave swallowed, jerking into motion to help Kurt clean up after the meal. "Um," he said, awkwardly putting the plates down in the sink as Kurt looked up to him, raising an eyebrow and waiting for Dave to speak. "I, uh... I got something I need to give back to you," he mumbled.

"Okay...?" Kurt paused, hand on the tap.

"I- I'll go get it." Dave turned and hurried upstairs, coming back down with the cake topper in his hands. Kurt was waiting, leaning elegantly against the counter and looking a little bemused by Dave's odd behaviour. He took a deep breath and went over, holding out his hand. "Here. I'm sorry I stole it from you."

"O- oh..." Kurt breathed, eyes widening a little as he saw what it was, gingerly reaching out and plucking the decoration from Dave's fingers, his thumb brushing over the soft veil. "I... wasn't expecting that at all..." he murmured, turning it over in his hands and glancing up at Dave.

"Yeah, well... I shouldn't have taken it..."

"Why did you take it...?" Kurt asked softly, still turning it over and over. Dave flushed, shifting awkwardly. He didn't want to admit that he'd wanted _something _of Kurt's, and when he'd seen the wedding topper – knew how important it was to Kurt... he'd _wanted_ it. And also... he'd wanted to scare Kurt, enough so his secret stayed a secret.

"I... I just..." he licked his lips, running his hand through his hair and huffing out a short breath. "I wanted to scare you and... and I... just wanted to have it," he mumbled, going pinker. Kurt didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the object in his fingers. Finally he looked up and smiled softly, reaching out and gently putting the topper back in Dave's hand.

"You can keep it, David. Not because you took it... but because you returned it, and now I'm giving it to you." Dave swallowed hard, his fingers slowly curling over the cake topper as he took a sharp, shaky breath and nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment.

"I'll, um... put it back and then help with the dishes," Dave said softly, crooking a tiny smile as he left again, safely tucking it back into his bag and taking a few seconds to compose himself before he headed back into the kitchen, pausing at the sight of Kurt looking... pissed.

"For god's sake...!" Kurt hissed, shaking the tap as he ferociously twisted the knobs, thunder booming close by. "I think it's blocked. Can you take a look, please?"

"I'm not a plumber," Dave snorted, leaning over and peering at the tap, trying to turn it on too with no success. Kurt made a frustrated noise, crossing his arms and glaring at it.

"Great, just-"

-Dave slammed the heel of his palm into the side of the tap, the whole thing vibrating before it shot out a wad of something really, really gross and exploded into a mad chaos of smelly brown water. "_Shit_!" He scrabbled to turn the water off as Kurt let out a shrill shriek, shoving himself back from the sink. Silence echoed around them, both soaking wet and the tap now off.

"...oh my god," Kurt breathed, looking down at his ruined shirt. "Oh my _god_."

"...at least I fixed it?" Dave gingerly offered, noting that out of them both, his clothes were actually in the worst state.

"Great...!" Kurt cried, throwing his hands up. "Now can you fix my clothes too, please!"

"I don't think hitting your top will help – and anyway, most of that dirty water went on me," he pointed out, just as another thunderclap rocked the house. Kurt opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, nodding and obviously trying to calm himself down.

"...you're right, you're right. Do you want to take a shower?"

"Yeah, please," Dave said softly.

"Follow me, I'll get you some towels." Kurt turned, striding out of the room. Ten minutes later Dave was in the shower, his ruined clothes a neat pile and the towels on the toilet seat. The lights flickered, Dave glancing up with a small frown as the storm raged around them. It sounded really bad... he just hoped Finn was okay driving through it, because it seemed to be right on top of the hou-

-Suddenly the thunder crashed so loud he couldn't help the small yelp of shock, the fright fuelled by the fact he was suddenly plunged into darkness as the power cut out; though nothing gave him more of a fright than when Kurt _screamed_.

The noise had him blindly slamming off the water and stumbling out of the shower, wrapping what he hoped was a towel around his waist and – after knocking his side painfully into the sink – managing to throw open the door and step out into the pitch black hallway, just in time to collide with first the door, and then Kurt.

The blow managed to knock Dave backwards, winded as they let out twin yelps of shock and hit the floor, Dave twisting slightly to make sure that he took the brunt of the fall rather than Kurt, even though it meant the back of his head slammed into the door loudly. Kurt's gasp was lost in another roll of thunder, as was Dave's low groan of pain as he reached for his aching head, his elbow glancing Kurt's face as he did so.

"David? Are you alright?" he sounded panicked, his voice high and breathless and Dave could feel Kurt's hands shaking on his shoulder from where the smaller boy was bracing himself.

"I'm fine, Fancy," he gritted out, still seeing flashes of light behind his eyelids. He was trying to ignore the pain and... the fact that he was very, very unclothed with Kurt on top of him. His breath caught audibly but he swallowed, trying to keep calm. "Are you okay? I heard you scream."

"I'm... I'm fine, I just got a shock... I don't like storms like this," Kurt murmured, shifting in an attempt to balance himself. But he missed, somehow managing to trip himself over Dave's shin and landing heavily on top of Dave again just as he was sitting up, their foreheads knocking together as Kurt's nails dug into Dave's shoulders and Dave's own hands clamped on Kurt's hips in an attempt to keep him steady. Another – even louder – boom of thunder rolled around them.

Dave could feel the cold wall against his bare back, Kurt's hands tight on his upper arms and his own on Kurt's warm hips; but most importantly he could feel Kurt's breath fluttering past his lips, could feel Kurt's hair brushing his forehead, could almost feel Kurt's warmth on his cheeks. He was breathing shallowly, his pulse racing even as every muscle in his body seemed to lock, terrified to move in case it triggered Kurt into pulling back.

The windows rattled with the force of the rain, the way his sight had been taken from him making every sense a thousand times stronger – he could feel the flex and twitch of Kurt's thighs around one of his own, the press of Kurt's knee in his inner thigh, the scratch of the carpet under his feet and the backs of his legs... the heat of Kurt's hands on his damp skin the... the brush of their noses, of their foreheads.

How close were they? The air between their mouths was hot; electric. His fingers were shaking on Kurt's thighs and he'd all but stopped breathing. He didn't know whether his eyes were open or not, but he could almost taste the quiver of Kurt's bottom lip, the ragged exhale that made time curl up and die in a corner.

The floor shook beneath them as the wind howled, tearing at the house. Dave would never knew who moved first if either did, but he'd never forget the flutter of Kurt's lips against his, so soft he could have imagined it. His fingers tightened on Kurt's hips, his heart thumping in his chest so hard it hurt even as he tilted forward, closing the small gap between them, and brushed their lips together again barely a second after the first. He could feel and hear Kurt inhaling sharply, could feel the way the muscles of his back tightened and flexed, the tremble of his fingers on Dave's skin.

He was scared. Fuck it, Dave was _terrified_. This was everything he'd ever wanted and everything he'd ever feared, this was heaven and hell – the devil and God raging, despair and hope and everything in between his wildest dream and most desperate nightmare. But nothing – _nothing –_ could make him pull back in this moment as the thunder crashed and their lips met again and again; each time more firmly, their breath hot and short.

Kurt shifted just as Dave's hand slid up from his hip to his back and suddenly there was no air between them, Dave could feel Kurt's chest against his, could feel the racing beat of Kurt's heart against his own, separated only by skin, bone and one shirt. Their mouths caught and Dave suddenly felt the damp of Kurt's inner lip against his – a touch of teeth.

It was as if an explosion (a bonfire, a detonation!) had been set off in his chest, the heat and crackle spreading to every limb he had as his hand leaped up to cup the back of Kurt's head, fingers curling into the short hair at the nape. The action shifted them and suddenly their noses weren't pressed awkwardly together any more, their mouths _fitted _and Kurt's fingers tripped and trembled their way along Dave's bare shoulder to his neck and then cheek.

Dave could barely breathe as he let his tongue flicker across Kurt's bottom lip, dizzy and hot as he felt Kurt's mouth open a little in an invitation. His thumb stroked Kurt's temple tenderly as he let his tongue map out the fullness and swell of Kurt's soft lips, his toes curling as Kurt's hand slid down from Dave's shoulder to his chest.

The ground literally moved and shuddered under them as their tongues brushed in a slick slide. Dave felt like his brain had shut off long ago; the hand left on Kurt's hip slowly moving to his lower back and holding him closer; All he could taste and feel was Kurt, his weight solid and hot in his arms, real and tangible as he kissed a little deeper, the sounds all but inaudible thanks to the crash of the storm.

He loved him. He loved Kurt Hummel, and he was as gay as they came. He'd kissed girls before – two at some party, desperate to prove to himself and others that he was straight and normal and totally one of the guys, but it had been boring and they'd stank of alcohol and the wax of their lipstick; utterly unappealing and awkward; but this? This was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him. Better than anything he could have ever imagined, and all the more frightening for it because all of his feelings were so, so much more than just lust. He wanted Kurt in _every _way, wanted him physically _and _emotionally.

And for this moment, at least, he had him.

Kurt shifted as his tongue slid along Dave's, the simple action forcing his hips to tilt forwards for balance, his weight more firmly on Dave and- _shit_... Dave choked out a rough noise, biting at Kurt's lip as his hard on suddenly met Kurt's thigh, and _fuck _he could feel Kurt on his own thigh, hot and firm and _there_. Because of him. He'd... he'd done that.

Kurt's hands tripped over his bare chest, the air around them so thick and hot it felt liquid, Dave nudging Kurt's hips on pure instinct to help him settle more comfortably. Another burst of thunder drowned out the twin gasps of pleasure as their groins pressed together, obstructed only by a corner of the towel and Kurt's jeans.

There was no blood in Dave's brain left to think with as the kiss turned deeper, wetter, hotter, more aching and desperate as Kurt flexed and rolled his hips up against him, snatching stilted breaths from the thick air between them. Dave's hands were sliding up under Kurt's top, running his palms over the smooth curve of Kurt's back, feeling the fit of his spine, his shoulder blades – miles of perfect skin he never wanted to let go of.

Time had lost all meaning, the rhythmic grind of Kurt's hips against his all he was counting as he managed to skim his fingers over Kurt's lean stomach, sucking on his bottom lip, panting hard as the storm crashed louder around them, as intense as they were. Kurt's hands were hot on his chest, the movement of their hips having dragged the towel to the side. Dave was left uncovered, his cock grinding against the denim of Kurt's jeans.

He was close; he could feel his orgasm curled so hot and tight in his stomach, quivering for release as he groaned into the kiss that had turned almost animal with pent-up desire, teeth and tongue and spit – Kurt's nails digging into his chest and his hips moving quicker.

Dave lasted until Kurt started gasping against his mouth – breathless whines and whimpers of his _fucking name_, soft 'uhn's and '_David_'s and Dave was pulling Kurt down onto him harder, his whole body shaking because this wasn't some empty dream or fantasy, it wasn't just the last few minutes. It was almost half a year of hidden longing and desires that suddenly came violently and unexpectedly into focus. Kurt's weight was solid and real in his arms and against his body, this was _Kurt,_ Kurt the boy he _loved._

Fingers caught in Dave's hair. Kurt's breath was short and irregular against his mouth. Kurt, it was _Kurt_, it was-

Dave tightened his grip, pressing Kurt's body against his, arching his back and hips as a crescendo of pleasure hit him. He gasped brokenly, his hands trembling almost violently as he kept helping Kurt rock against him, listening to the catch and hitch of Kurt's breath, the shake in his thighs...

…the way Kurt clung to him – as if he was the only thing in his world – as he gasped out his name and came hard, slowly slumping against him.

All Dave could hear was his blood pounding in his ears, their ragged breath and the screams of the storm around them. His hands were stroking over Kurt's back on instinct but he froze as Kurt slowly sat back. In a second the air between them went from charged to crippling levels of awkward.

What the fuck had just happened.

Already it felt like a dream, utterly unreal and terrifyingly fragile. Kurt cleared his throat and suddenly he was gone, Dave reaching blindly into the darkness for him. "Kurt," he rasped, voice low and desperate.

"I– it's okay," Kurt murmured, gently touching his knee. "I'm... I'm going to get... candles... and then... and then we... we need to talk."

Dave swallowed hard but didn't protest. Already, he could feel his dreams crumbling. Kurt would come back and say he'd made a mistake, that Dave had better go, that everything had been fucked up and... and he'd had that one _amazing _moment before it was all over...

Dave miserably pulled the towel back around himself, listening to Kurt's footsteps get further and further away.

He just hoped that he hadn't fucked it all up too badly.

**X x X x X x X**

**A/N huge thanks to my beta Tess – reallytessisamess! And thank you all for reading! I have a Tumblr account under the name gleekilicious so be sure to check it out :D**

**Thanks again!**


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